


Talent

by Rrrowr



Series: Teen Wolf Drabbles [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Choking, Dubious Consent, Face-Fucking, Hair-pulling, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-24
Updated: 2013-05-24
Packaged: 2017-12-12 19:29:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/815171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rrrowr/pseuds/Rrrowr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Deucalion has a taste for new talent, but doesn't take people on their word. He prefers to see it in action.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Talent

“He told me that your best feature is your mouth,” Deucalion began with an air of waning patience. “I’m beginning to think that either Peter was wrong or he simply has lower standards than I do.” He pushed back Stiles’ hair and gripped it in the curl of his fingers. “There is that lengthy coma to consider. Perhaps his options are limited.”

Deucalion touched Stiles’ face, felt the smooth skin of his cheek and the wetness around his mouth. Stiles panted against his fingers, but made no move to strain for release — didn’t pull away but didn’t lean in either, passively accepting that there was very little that he could do to escape. Next to him, Peter strained against the chains that bound him, and the links twisted into the fabric of his coat, stretching the leather. Deucalion could feel the heat of Peter’s hatred like a burn against the skin, and he purposefully leaned into Peter’s side as he led Stiles back between his legs by his hair.

“Try again and put some effort into it,” Deucalion said. The grind of Peter’s teeth was like music to his ears — the perfect accompaniment to the artless way Stiles sucked at Deucalion’s cock.

The truth was that Stiles was not bad at this. He was young — smelled like nerves and inexperience — but even in the short period of time that Deucalion had   
had Stiles on his knees, there was already improvement. Stiles learned quickly how far he could go, how to move his tongue, how to use his hands even while they were bound in front of him, and he let himself be guided with every twist and pull of Deucalion’s hand in his hair.

“Tell me why you like his mouth,” Deucalion said.

“Why else would I like it?” Peter replied, aiming for dismissive and aloof. He might have gotten away with it had he not added, “It’s certainly not for the conversation.”

Peter’s heart betrayed him, and Deucalion sighed as he cupped the back of Stiles’ head and forced him to choke on his dick. Stiles made a throaty, gagging sound and tried to make some space by pushing with his hands, but he was no match for Deucalion’s superior strength. He stayed where he was, with his mouth becoming disgustingly wet and his throat fluttering with a panic. Stiles’ face grew warm against the inside of his thighs, and when he started to thrash, Deucalion gave him enough space to catch a single, desperate gasp of air before choking him all over again.

“You should think twice about lying to me,” he murmured lightly, making a soft noise as he felt Stiles’ throat struggling to relax and accept the intrusion. “Not exactly the best foot to begin a relationship on. Do you agree, Stiles?”

Stiles sucked in a deep breath when Deucalion let him pull back and rested his head against Deucalion’s hip for a moment. “You’re crazy if you think that ramming your cock down my throat is some kind of punishment,” he said, voice croaking and raw.

“Maybe not for you,” Deucalion agreed, sliding one of his feet between Stiles’ folded legs.

He curled his toes upward, under the heavy weight of Stiles’ erection, and Stiles jerked, shuddering and sighing against Deucalion’s skin. This time, when he pulled Stiles’ toward him again, the wet heat wrapped around him easily, and Stiles went so far as to make sound like he was enjoying himself. Deucalion tipped his head back, tilting his face toward Peter, who was still grinding his teeth as Stiles moved lewdly over Deucalion’s length. He squeezed Peter’s rigid thigh and used it as leverage as he pushed his hips toward Stiles’ face.

“I think I like him,” he told Peter as if it was a secret, as if he were bothering to lower his voice so that Stiles couldn’t hear him. “He’s pushy, angry, _wild_ ,” he stressed, hissing as Stiles’ mouth elicited a deep shiver out of him. “His mouth is much better now than it was five minutes ago. It’s a shame you haven’t done more than talk. Though perhaps that’s more you’re fault than his. Even for a beta, you are rather weak.”

Peter snarled audibly then. So defensive.

“Not going to beg for your freedom? Or Stiles’?” Deucalion asked.

“Would it make any difference?” Peter said, and Deucalion merely smiled. “What do you want me to do?”

Deucalion considered this as he pulled Stiles into his lap, and said, “Stiles, I want you to think very carefully. What would you consider Peter’s most talented feature?"

Stiles laughed. His breath smelled a bit sour. His heart was beating so hard — impossible to say whether it was from fear or excitement — but he sounded breathless as he answered. “He has a clever tongue. He lies a lot, and when he’s not lying, he’s twisting the truth. He makes a lot of promises with that tongue.”

Deucalion turned his face into the long line of Stiles’ neck. His fingers looped around the chains that were around Peter’s chest. “I can work with that,” he said.

**Author's Note:**

> [Here](http://rrrowr.tumblr.com/post/51131645692) on tumblr.


End file.
